


Wasteland

by tropicalgothic



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Divergent AU, Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, I don't know how else to tag witohut spoilers, Or just maybe some things don't settle as well with some people, Some Romance, Some not so romantic things, multisasorimonth2021, potential dub con?? If you squint?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29880306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropicalgothic/pseuds/tropicalgothic
Summary: Karura and Sasori traverse the Western Wastes in search of adventure, paint pigments, and perhaps some love along the way. But-- Karura has a feeling that-- something is missing. Something important.
Relationships: Karura & Sasori (Naruto), Karura/Sasori (Naruto)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2
Collections: Multi-Sasori





	Wasteland

Karura woke up to the summer sunrise-- with its golden glow bleeding into pinks, and blues, and violets. The heat of the desert sand seeped in through the black cloak where they slept for the evening. Still, an arm around her waist brought her closer to a familiar heat. She could feel his breath tickling her neck.

Despite Sasori’s grumbled protests, Karura sat up to make breakfast.

She was thinking just eggs today. They would have to make a trip to town for more supplies, though. And water-- they were low on that too. But when Karura opened the carapace of Sasori’s puppet (1), she found a whole pantry waiting for her.

“Did you go shopping without me?” She asked aloud, taking the eggs and maybe some dried meat. They didn’t camp out beside a rock formation this time-- so they had to keep moving. “Sasori,” she knelt beside Mr. Five-more-minutes.

Sasori wrapped the black cloak around himself, shielding him from the 7 am sun.

“Sasori, where were we going again?”

Silence followed.

Karura thought to ask him later instead, when the cloak had gathered enough heat to pry him out of his cocoon. But Sasori poked his head out. “Didn’t you want to go adventuring?”

Karura thought about that for a moment.

“I suppose I did.” Then she smiled, and nodded towards the campfire, “Eggs will be ready in a minute.”

x.X.x

By night, they would camp, and by day, they would walk. They walked, and walked, and walked across the Western Waste. They met no one and found no small villages with an inn to sleep in. Once, they came upon the ruins of an old city and made it their home.

Karura even convinced Sasori to stay for a few days. “It will be just like when we were younger! In the ruins near Suna.”(2)

Suna.

Karura found herself, these days, staring back at the direction they came from. She had a… a nagging feeling that she left something there. She would reach up to her neck where--- there had been something around her neck. Something important. Someone…

Marry me.

That wasn’t Sasori’s voice, Karura realized.

x.X.x

“So the color is perfect for flesh tones,” Sasori continued. “Somewhere between burnt umber and---” He paused from their trek up the mountain, thinking of the best color description.(3)

“Rust?” Karura offered.

“No, no, no. Much darker than rust.”

Karura leaned back on her spot in Sasori’s puppet. It felt funny going up the mountain, sandwiched between the supplies and Sasori’s puppet scrolls. The original plan had been to scale the mountain side. But when they reached the midpoint of the mountain, the thin air robbed Karura of breath, and she almost--- well, she did fall. Sasori had managed to catch her by his chakra strings just before she hit a sharp edge. But that had forced them a few steps back.

And they had been making good time.

_Stay at the foot of the mountain. I shall be back before you know it._

_I don’t want to leave your side._

The smile Sasori held then-- dagger-sharp and so full of something she couldn’t name. Perhaps, it was butterflies in the stomach because she felt it too. _Let me come along._

“I’d say raw umber,” Sasori finally settled. Both he and the carapace started moving again.

“I’m not familiar with the distinction.”

“I can show you. I don’t have the pigment itself--- it would take some time to make it. But I have a few that I can mix together to approximate the color. With the right paper, the right lighting-- I could show you how beautiful the color is. You could paint a whole scene with light and shadow only using those colors and the parchment you put it on---”

Karura rested her chin on her hand. Her eyes lingered in the way Sasori’s eyes lit up at the conversation and the way his hands moved around more whenever he was excited about something.

“What are you smiling about?” Sasori laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Nothing,” Karura couldn’t help the smile forming on her lips. “I just love you.”

Sasori stopped. For a full second. Then, he turned his head away, but Karura caught a faint pink forming on his cheeks.

“Are you blushing?” She teased, hopping off Hiruko.

Sasori shook his head _no_ despite the evidence growing darker on his cheeks, and his back meeting the edge of the mountain.

Karura brushed his hair away and let her fingers trace the edge of his jaw. “I like it when you talk about the things you’re passionate about,” she said, her thumb against his lips-- moist and plump (someone never forgets skincare even in the middle of the mountains of Iwa). “Would you like to stop and discuss this a little more?”

“Here?” Sasori laughed.

“I don’t see anyon--- Oh!” Karura felt _someone_ pinch her butt.

“Who would have thought?” Sasori laughed. This time, it was Karura who turned pink and was about to protest. “We’re almost at the area though.”

“Of course, sorry---” Karura sheepishly tucked herself back into the carapace. They did have a plan when they came to the mountain, after all. There had been a pigment that Sasori was missing from his collection. _Ultramarine blue_ was what he mentioned--- but like raw and burnt umber, these weren’t colors Karura was familiar with.

They continued their trek with fewer words-- more shy glances and quiet attempts at dancing around the heat of the sun working its way between them. Until finally, Sasori found the spot.

It had been marked, Karura noticed. Three marks-- she wondered when Sasori visited the area because it wasn’t something she remembered. She would have remembered a view like this, Karura thought, as she gazed over the mountain ranges of Iwagakure that stood tall against the setting sun.

While she was marveling at the sight, Sasori took out one of his puppets. Karura could hear the sigh of the summoning and the hiss of the sand slithering through the rocks. She could feel the rumble off the sand drilling through the earth beneath her feet.

Karura closed her eyes and she could feel--- like all of this was… so familiar. Familiar enough that the grind of sand… no, metal. The grind of metal against the rocks did not phase her.

“Sasori,” she turned around, “what are you--”

“I got one,” he said, tossing a brilliant blue rock from one hand to the other.

“Oh! That’s a beautiful stone, Sasori. What is it?”

He held the stone beside her face and smiled. “It matches your eyes, Ruri.” (4)

Karura’s breath was caught on something--- on a feeling that created knots and butterflies in her stomach. “Can I kiss you?” They fluttered wildly when Sasori smiled-- half-triumphant, and perhaps half-shy. “I know it’s terribly dusty,” she laughed, “and I want to hold your cheeks but the water we’ve got is for drinking.”

Sasori paused, pretending to consider the request. “You may,” he finally said.

He didn’t need to say anything else. Karura had already jumped on him and showered him with kisses. The black sand continued to shift from the corner of her vision. Knots in her stomach. _And butterflies_ Karura reminded herself and focused on the feel of Sasori’s lips and how they curled into a smirk.

She would remember something like this.

x.X.x

It’s the first time they’ve entered a village in a long while. Karura had jumped up and down when she saw the arched entrance--- even dragged Sasori by the hand towards it. He agreed that they should rest there. She might have jumped on him in her excitement. They might have tumbled downhill and had to walk twice the distance to get to the village.

But she was happy.

Karura held Sasori’s hand as they walked through the night market and bought supplies for the journey. She was sure he’d grow tired of her talking about the day-- because he had experienced the day with her and, being more concerned with practicality, Sasori preferred only hearing necessary information once.

But he didn’t stop her. He listened to her laugh, and go through the little gifts they bought for the umpteenth time.

“Are you sure it was okay to buy these?” Karura asked, holding the little trinkets that they bought. There was a necklace that was a precious silver. The merchant even told her how to take care of it if it tarnished. “I know we’re just traveling and we won’t have a source of--- hey, actually, I wondering where we got the money fo---”

Sasori kissed her. Once, then twice, his hand cupping her cheek. Another resting on her side.

He placed the silver chain around her neck, and they made love again until all of her was filled with dreams.

x.X.x

“Shh!” Sasori playfully hissed, “No looking. This is top secret, Karura.”

“Alright, alright,” she laughed. Karura turned away to focus on the garlic she was peeling. She was _definitely_ not sneaking glances at Sasori’s workstation. _Definitely_ didn’t notice-- _rosewater_? Where would one put rosewater in--

“Karura,” he chastised once more. And once more, though a little bit more sheepishly, Karura turned back to her workstation.

Most of the time, she was in charge of the cooking and Sasori cleaned up after her. Why he doesn’t let her clean up was beyond her-- especially since she has to ask him every so often where the spatulas were.

Most of the time.

But on special days, Sasori would cook some of his _super-secret_ and _extra special_ saffron rice--- and he always gets the crispy tahdig perfect. Karura suspects that the creaminess would be from butter? Or perhaps yogurt? Or _a lot_ of saffron--- knowing Sasori, he would splurge on these small luxuries. (5)

Sasori left the kitchen to place the rice in the outdoor oven he’s created for them.

Karura sneaks a glance at his workstation.

Sasori tickled her until surrender. She might have wiped her garlic hands on his cheek. He might have rubbed said cheek against her cheek.

The kitchen was a bit of a mess by the time they sat down for dinner. This time, both of them cleaned up together.

x.X.x

“I don’t want you touching this one, okay?”

Karura nodded. He didn’t seem as angry as she thought he would be--- considering it had been his favorite puppet. It was just that the puppet was on the table, and she needed to set the dishes for dinner. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Still, there was none of his usual biting anger. Just the frustration of telling a child the same instructions for the umpteenth time.

“All my puppets have poison,” he explained, “and I have antidotes for them, and I know the toxidrome. But if you get cut by the blade and it gets infected---”

That’s going to fester and I’m not a medic.

“--- that’s going to fester and I’m not a medic.”

Karura blinked. Has he told this to her before? She couldn’t remember-- Still, Karura nodded her head. “I won’t touch it again.” Her gaze fell on the puppet which held the Sandaime Kazekage’s dark hair, and golden eyes--- they were staring back at her. She knew they were close and that the Kazekage meant a lot to Sasori.

She wanted to tell him that this way of coping with being away from Suna wasn’t healthy.

But every time she mentioned going back, something would flare up behind his eyes. Not that it ever flowed out of his lips. But she wasn’t blind. Sasori didn’t want to go back.

“Maybe we should stay here then?” Karura offered. “It might be easier to find a medic in the village. I think I know one--”

“What’s his name?”

Karura paused, something like dread creeping over her chest. Did Sasori think she was--- “Oh, I meant a medic back in Suna… Not here, I haven’t seen one here but he mentioned that--”

“What’s his name?” Sasori repeated, folding his puppet of the Kazekage back into the scroll. “The medic in Suna?”

“His name is…” His name is. His name… She knew his name. She knew him… quite well… she thought. She could see him, actually! This medic. He had blonde hair and a funny laugh. And didn’t listen when she told him to go to bed and stop reading his books… and… 

“Do you remember?”

Karura shook her head--- paused-- and shook her head again. “It escapes me.” But she knew this. That information was right there… somewhere. She knew this person, she knew--

She felt something soft against her cheek and turned to meet Sasori’s lips against hers. “Don’t think about it too much.” His voice was soft, and he offered her a smile. But something told her this was more an order than a worry. “Shall we have dinner?”

It took a few seconds for Karura to gather up a smile and tell him what she’s cooked.

x.X.x

She was happy.

Even if they were leaving the little village that they’ve called home for a month. She still insisted that they walked hand in hand over the desert sands and he let her. Karura couldn’t recall when they decided to start moving away from the Western Waste-- only that Sasori insisted they had this conversation already.

Not that she preferred walking through the endless expanse of sand forever.

Perhaps all the heat from the travels has already affected her memory. That’s probably it. 

At night, when they stopped for camp, Sasori placed an arm around her. It was warm, and the fabric of his clothes was soft against her cheek.

She was happy.

x.X.x

Karura was cleaning the carapace when they made a stop by a river. Sasori had been busy setting up something to distill the water, and she tried to make herself useful.

One of the things she stumbled on was an old bottle of ointment. It didn’t look like the amber bottles Sasori usually used. The writing, she noted, didn’t look like Sasori’s either.

For a second, her mind drifted to the medic back in Suna--- the medic… whose name she couldn’t even remember.

Karura opened the bottle-- there was barely any ointment left. Not enough to be useful, if this were an antiseptic. She shrugged, and dipped it close to the water--

“Ouch!” Something stung her hand, and she dropped the-- no, Sasori had snatched the bottle from her.

“Don’t touch this,” Sasori hissed.

“I’m sorry,” Karura nursed the red mark where the chakra string hit her. “I didn’t-- I thought it was empty.”

Sasori cradled the old ointment against his chest and then placed it back at the very edge of the carapace. “This was given by someone important to me.” He started putting all the other items back in place.

“Someone from Suna?”

Sasori stopped.

Karura could feel the temperature drop-- just like her heart when she saw the way Sasori’s face twisted, venom gathering in his tongue.

Then, Sasori closed his eyes, and the fire receded until Karura could barely make out its embers. But the fear still coiled like a knot in her belly. Familiar knots and butterflies.

“Let’s finish up here, love,” his voice was honey-sweet. “We need to get somewhere safe before the night comes.” He turned to her once all the things were back in the carapace, and laid a kiss on her trembling ones.

x.X.x

It all happened so fast.

One moment, they had been walking across the desert-- the way they did every other day. Karura had been wondering aloud about cacti propagation and whether speeding it up meant smaller cacti or slower growing chicks.

But Sasori held her hand tightly, his eyes trained on the horizon.

“What’s wrong?”

“Shh!”

Karura froze-- they haven’t encountered anyone hostile along the way. But Sasori’s other hand was already on the large scroll he carried on his back. The blood drained from her face. She was going to get him into trouble wasn’t---

Just then, the very earth rumbled beneath them. Smoke clouded her vision, her lungs. Then, she was raised high, high, high up until she felt weightless. 

When the smoke cleared, she could see the platform of black sand beneath her feet. Karura crouched down closer to it-- she’s never been this high up before. She could fall. She looked at Sasori who stood at a similar platform, his puppet gliding on black wings with large blades for hands. Something thick and purple dripping down from the sharp edges.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

Karura looked down.

Her vision below was a swirl of black and gold, climbing higher and higher.

Someone called out her name.

Karura answered with a name she didn’t recognize--- but felt, so, so familiar. Rasa! 

And then darkness.

x.X.x

Karura woke up with tears running down her face.

It was dark. It was night. She reached out around her and her fingers met cold grainy sand. She touched her chest where her heart thundered against its ribcage. Nothing hurt. Nothing physically hurt.

“You’re awake.”

Karura pressed her lips together, “Yeah, I’m awake,” and then sat up. Sasori was sitting by the campfire. It was the only warmth against the darkness surrounding them. Karura moved closer to him and lay her head against his shoulder. He did not move. After a few seconds of silence passed between them, Karura pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for keeping me safe today.”

She watched his face, his expression-- waiting for it to change, or to give her some sign that things were okay with the two of them. They could be happy again.

But his expression did not change, and his eyes were only focused on the flame. “You’re hard to travel with, Karura.”

“I’m sorry--” the words left her lips immediately. “I’d like to help, Sasori. If you could teach me how to fight, or how to better defend myself then--”

“It’s not that,” this time, he turned to her and smiled. “It’s that you pick up things too fast.”

A beat.

“How long, Sasori?” Karura asked, knowing that, in a few minutes, the answer wouldn’t matter anyway.

“A year. Maybe two.”

She felt the tears well up in her eyes, once more. Karura looked up at the evening sky, wondering how far they were from a village. From any village. From the corner of her eye, she could see something scurrying away. Yeah, that’s… that’s it, she supposed. That’s where people who knew too much end up-- in the belly of some desert scavenger. “Did we hurt anyone?”

Sasori shook his head. “Not you. You didn’t hurt anyone.”

There was one more question stuck at the tip of her tongue. Why.

But she knew the answer to that, didn’t she? Karura was no different from the image of the Kazekage that Sasori has carved into wood. She was no different from the puppets he carried in his scrolls. Only warmer. Only one that speaks. That smiles.

That cries.

“That man who came after us… I knew him.”

“Yes.”

“How is he?”

“They’ll find him soon enough.”

A harsh sob tumbled off her lips and then she couldn’t stop the crying anymore. That’s when she felt familiar arms around her, and the soothing caress of Sasori’s fingers. All that did was make her sob harder.

Sasori sighed, “He’s wounded, not dead. They’ll find him-- I’ve made sure. It gives us a headstart while he recovers. By then, we’ll be in a different country and he can’t come after us anymore.”

“Hah,” Karura laughed, no longer knowing what emotion accompanied her tears. “You don’t hah-- hah, you--- We’ll be in a different country. You don’t have to pretend anymore. I know what you’re going to do.” She turned to look at him, not sure what to expect. But the way Sasori’s head turned down, and his eyes glazed--- Karura let go of an instinctive “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

They spoke little during the meal, passing food and spices like it was just any other night. Once the dishes were clean, he even suggested lying down together. They looked up at the stars and Karura told him stories about the stars--- even if she couldn’t remember who told her these. Only that she had been a little girl, sitting on someone’s lap.

Suppose, there were worse ways to go.

Karura had been happy. When they finally laid down beside each other with his breath tickling her neck, Karura did not expect to wake up the next day. Maybe it would be quick. Maybe she wouldn’t even notice it.

She closed her eyes and felt Sasori’s fingers brushing through her hair. It felt warm against the gold desert breeze. Almost like water falling into her hair. Almost like she's floating.

Almost like forgetting.

x.X.x

Karura woke up and the winter sunrise still colored the desert a light blue. Still, the heat of the desert sand seeped in through the black cloak where they slept for the evening. An arm around her waist brought her closer to a familiar heat.

Karura laughed when she felt Sasori’s breath tickle her neck. He grumbled when she tried to sit up.

“Sasori, I have to make breakfast,” Karura laughed and turned around. She laid a kiss on his nose and asked “Where were we going again?”

**Author's Note:**

> (1) This is in reference to Hiruko's back-- a prototype of it, if you will.  
> (2) Headcanon from shipcat about the Suna pantheon-- that there were ruins of an old city near Suna, out in the Wastelands. Destroyed by the wrath of a Sunan goddess of curses. To young children who have heard but do not fear the tales, this was the perfect spot for elaborate games before the end of the day.  
> (3) The actual pigment is Mummy brown... which... is self-explanatory. It is made out of crushed human mummies.  
> (4) The pigment in question is Lapis Lazuli. The crushed stone is used to make ultramarine blue. The Kanji of RU in Karura's name is also the same as the Kanji in the Japanese of lapis lazuli (Ruri). Ruri is also the nickname Sasori has given Karura because of her name, and because the indigo of her eyes seemed to match the color of the stone (but it's a name shared only between the two of them).  
> (5) All three are right by the way. A buttload of saffron (enough for your wallet to die a little) in water, mixed in with yogurt and oil, and also some other ingredients sauteed in butter.


End file.
